Happy place
by wanderingsmith
Summary: S/W - fluff - Elizabeth's happy place


Summary: Elizabeth's happy place  
Rating: PG13  
Beta: comancherider  
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.

AN: _Well, OK, more like my happy place... this is what happens when I get obsessed_

"Go to your happy place."

Somehow Elizabeth didn't think John had any idea what he was encouraging when he quoted that overused phrase at her when she actually whined at him about the IOA's latest ridiculous demands...

She wriggled her shoulders a little to settle even more deeply into the media room armchair whose comfort she'd discovered one day. One locked door, check. One turned off radio, check. One darkened room, check. One hoarded fine dark chocolate bar, check.

Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, and then a few mental Banto stick swings at the work-thoughts that tried to pop out. She finally took a dainty bite of chocolate, taking a single chew at a time and letting the slightly sweet, slightly bitter, so-smooth mix of chemicals that worked chocolate's magic carry her into a warm, peaceful world; an invisible bodyguard watching her 'six' with that stick to neutralize the stubborn thoughts still appearing.

Her second bite was taken with muscles getting heavy with relaxation as she continued to take deep breaths and let herself float.

This time she left the larger piece of heaven on her tongue to melt as she slowly suckled it, giving a very slight nudge to the amorphous world she floated in. Slowly, in time with the release of silky darkness onto her taste buds, shape and sight developed to join peace and warmth. The feeling of having a body, with lips and fingers; relaxed and happy.

And then a position; kneeling, no strain on her knee, just softness below and her body holding itself easily. The 'world' around didn't register as anything.. but the shade of the body she rested over and against had substance and colour; and warmth. Life in regular breaths and a scent all around her that she took a cleansing breath of in that beautiful world.

Taking another bite, she found her hands on relaxed, strong shoulders as her body rested at ease on the warm, flannel-covered male chest, knees on either side of hard, jean-clad thighs. The man, and she didn't want to stutter the relaxation by giving him any more identity than that, had his head to the side, resting on the back of the armchair they both occupied, his face in shadows.

This was an old fantasy, made to calm and comfort. Guided by caring and gentled desire, by the denied need for touch. To touch; to give affection...

She lowered her lips to the tip of an elfin ear, tender skin under her barely touching lips, uncombed dark hair tickling her cheek as she dreamily traced her way to his cheekbone. Soft hair gave way to rough stubble against her skin. She shifted her face away from the scrub, kissing the corner of a closed eye before starting down, licking when her lips started hitting those short hairs, feeling both soft skin and the stiff little spikes on her tongue. The taste was half faint memory, half chocolate; the smell of a well-recognized, yet unknown cologne spiraling through her senses.

One hand stroked over the body-warmed, soft material of his shirt and then tugged the collar gently to expose more of the tanned skin. As her lips continued down over supple cheek to solid jaw, nibbling a bit before following the bone to a stubborn chin, her index teased the skin at the new edge of his shirt, a shiver running through the male body, otherwise silent and still under her tactile enjoyment.

Softly rounded, sensuous lips tempted her, as they always did, but a kiss required two souls, and this was about letting her senses relax.. not regretting lonely reality. So she resisted, giving just one kiss to the prickly hollow under the bottom half of his so sweetly sleep-smiling mouth, and then going back to the chin to take another bite of the jawbone; and chocolate.

For just a minute she let her weight rest on him, cheek to cheek, and closed even those eyes, pretending the warmth and closeness were real. Just one little minute as the lightly orange-flavoured chocolate warmed enough to melt and her tired soul remembered the value of life.

Then she sat up again purposefully, pulling away from oh-so-male bearded cheek and looking at the expanse of skin showing from the jawbone to the flannel boundary. And grinned happily as she watched her finger, allowed to touch, stroke; watched the triangle of exposed chest rise and fall with breathing, the Adam's apple shift with a swallow. Happy place.

She sat down on his thighs for easier access and leaned in to lick, from that rarely seen hollow of his throat to the dark underside at the tip of his jawbone. The chocolate reality and dream-skin tastes were different, but equally heavenly, silky cacao versus sandpaper-covered soft heat.

Sitting in her quiet chair in the media room, Elizabeth sighed peacefully, absently feeling how little chocolate was left as she took another bite and started dropping suckling kisses over all the lovely skin at her very own dream-disposal. There were all sorts of muscles playing underneath, strong bones and cartilage shifting under her occasional nibbles. Toward the back, her nose was caressed by a neatly resting lock of hair as she stroked her lips over the protected skin behind that pixie ear. Well, there had to be one cooperative section in the dark mop..

The softness of flannel was different than that of hair, but it held that comforting smooth spice of cologne as she nosed its edge; and the warmth of a strong male body. She unconsciously kept her cheek on it as long as she could as she dropped more cherishing suckles on her way to the curl of hair peeking out of his shirt, letting her lips stroke here and there as the stubble lessened away from his jaw and she could do it without anything distracting her from sweet, salty skin.

Her other hand came and played with those hairs as she watched now, unmoving otherwise, her cheek resting on his covered pectoral, sadly knowing she'd just taken her last piece of chocolate and her self-limited break was due to be over soon.

With last careful kisses to the edge of the hollow of his throat and the side of his Adam's apple, Elizabeth made herself sit up and meet hazel eyes that opened at her movement. Familiar affection and caring looked back at her and she swallowed the words that made her eyes burn, forcing herself to dismiss the guilty fantasy and open her real eyes to the silent, lonely media room.

It was a happy place. She just needed to learn to leave without facing his eyes... But they were such a part of what made her want him that leaving without looking into John's eyes was something she hadn't managed, even the first time, when their identity had actually been a surprise...

AN: _I had to find a way to touch that image... not sure its quite expunged yet.. so you may be faced with it again.. lol_


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